


Fragments

by SomethingProfound



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Drabbles, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, relationships added as they appear but there will be shepard/traynor and other ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingProfound/pseuds/SomethingProfound
Summary: A collection of Mass Effect writings not quite long enough to be their own thing, mostly from my tumblr. Relationships tagged as they appear. Mostly romance.





	1. Female Shepard/Ashley Williams: 'You're Important Too'

Ashley’s helmet clattered against the armoury bench. Cortez and Vega had wisely vacated the area, perhaps feeling the bubbling tension building as the shuttle had rattled its way back to the _Normandy,_ scratched and dented.

Shepard looked up, eyes wary. She’d already taken off her helmet and the armour on her arms and chest, black hair slicked to her skull with sweat, every moment careful and lethargic. “If you break that it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Her tone was casual, joking. Like it hadn’t been barely twenty minutes since they’d been sitting in the bottom of the Kodiak, their visors pressed together, Ashley’s arms around her shoulders, trying to give comfort through ceramic, trying to get her to breathe with her, saying _you’re okay, you’re okay, breathe with me._

“That was fucking nuts, Shepard,” She gritted out, “You nearly died.”

Shepard leant down and started undoing her boots, “It was a calculated risk. We needed Leviathan.”

“It’s like you don’t care anymore,” Ashley said bitterly, despairingly, “You’ve been taking stupid risks-”

Ashley knew recklessness, had often _been_ reckless before three years of war had taught her patience. Shepard, for all her carefully calculated risks, never had been. But Ashley had seen it in her eyes. The distant, fatalistic acceptance of a woman on the long march to the gallows.

“For fuck’s sake Ash,” Shepard snapped back, “I’ve been doing what I need to, for the war-”

“Is that all you care about anymore?” She demanded.

Shepard was suddenly close to her, arms crossed, eyes hard. “It’s the only thing that matters.”

Ashley searched her face. She found anger, defensiveness and little else. She wanted to grab her, wrap around her, say you’re not allowed to leave again, I need you. But she knew that everyone needed Shepard since the War had started, that her saying that would be another chain around her ankles, another burden to bear on shoulders already carrying too much when all that Ash wanted to do was to take some of the weight off.

God. They used to know how to talk to each other.

“You matter too,” She said sharply.

Shepard looked away.

Ash put a hand on her shoulder, carefully. Her voice was quieter but no less vehement, “You matter too.”

The elevator door whooshed open and she withdrew her hand, taking a step, suddenly realising how close they’d gotten. Doctor Chakwas raised one grey eyebrow but then snapped into business.

“Commander, Vega told me that you were deprived of oxygen for part of your…dive,” She said in that calming, professional voice that hinted at just a little bit of exasperation.

“Yeah.” Shepard rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

“To the medbay with you,” Chakwas said severely.

“Doc-”

“I need to check your blood oxygen saturation and do a brain scan,” Chakwas continued blithely.

“I’ll take care of your kit,” Ashley murmured as she removed her gauntlets.

“We’ll talk later,” Shepard said at last, and let the doctor steer her away and into the elevator. Ashley’s eyes followed them until the elevator door closed and then she sighed, turning to the piles of armour and weapons on the bench in front of her. At least cleaning and maintaining guns always calmed her - maybe the familiar actions would settle the churning in her chest.


	2. Female Ryder/Vetra Nyx: 'You Should See This'

There were bags under Sara Ryder’s eyes, lines of stress in the way she held her shoulders. They’d won, but it wasn’t over, not yet. There were leaders to negotiate with, left over Kett to kill, arguments to resolve. And everyone came to the Pathfinder.

Vetra watched Ryder from the doorway to her bedroom in the Hyperion as her girlfriend bent over a datapad, frowning. At least Scott was awake and putting a certain sparkle in her eye. _He’s my twin,_ Sara had said, _he’s the other half of me._

“Hey you.” 

Sara looked up as Vetra came up behind her, resting her hands gently on tensed shoulders. Ryder smiled and let the back of her head rest against the front of her carapace. Meridian was peaceful, so they were unarmoured, unarmed and it still made the turian a little uncomfortable. 

“You look stressed.” Vetra murmured against Ryder’s dark hair. 

Ryder grumbled but leaned into the touch. “There’s the rest of the Kett empire to worry about and everyone can’t stop bickering.” 

For all Sara’s SAMC career had been cut very short, she was still a military woman, with a military woman’s preference for decisive action. She hated sitting around talking about something when you could be _doing_ it. Maybe that was why they’d gotten along, for all their differences. 

“I want to show you something.” Vetra said, kneading gently with her talons, careful to keep the sharp points about from her lover’s skin. 

Sara sighed, eyes fluttering. “I have a lot of work to do.” 

“Humour me, babe. It won’t take too long, and you need a break.” 

Twenty minutes later they were away from the bustle of the starship metamorphosing into a city and alone in wilderness. Sara stared up at the cliff rising above them and shot Vetra an amused look. “You really like rock climbing, huh?”

Vetra flickered her mandibles. “...Yes. You should see this.” 

“Lead on.” Ryder waved a hand. “Just spare some pity for us short people.” 

It took them a good half an hour to reach the top, with Vetra slowing down for Ryder (‘I’m short! You have reach!). Sara took a moment to get her breath back, dramatically flinging herself to the ground, before she got to her feet and stared at Vetra with soft eyes, head tilted slightly.

“...Damn tall people.” 

Vetra felt a warmth in her chest. “Sorry. I’d try to get shorter but I don’t think you’d like that.” 

Sara considered that. “Yeah, probably not. C’mere.” 

She stepped forward, dipping her head to press the plates of her mouth to Ryder’s soft lips. Turians, as a rule, didn’t do the kissing thing, but since that moment on Kadara, Vetra had come to enjoy it - the way Sara pressed her whole body closer, the way she wrapped her arms around her waist, the way she sighed soft and contently against her. 

After a moment Vetra took a reluctant step back and pointed. “Have a look.” 

Sara turned and gasped quietly. Below them spread the tangled greenery, flashes of metal, sharp cliffs and gently hills as far as the eye could see. And in the distance, the hulk of the _Hyperion_ and an army of workers scurrying around it, small as ants.

“Holy shit.” 

“I found this place on one of my walks. I thought you’d like it.” 

“It’s beautiful, babe.” 

Vetra watched the awe on Sara’s face, mandibles flaring with emotion she’d never been good at expressing. “Sit with me for a bit?” 

Sara nodded and they settled in the lush, emerald grass, the Pathfinder in her arms, back against her front, hand slowly tracing over the angular planes of Vetra’s face; and they didn’t need to say a word.


	3. Female Shepard/Ashley Williams: 'No One Can Hurt Me Like You.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure this was supposed to be angst but my brain decided against it.

Ashley made hot chocolate in the apartment kitchen, properly with hot milk stirred in. Shepard watched her from the couch, in between staring at her hands. She guessed she shouldn’t be surprised by it - Ash was as much the big sister as she was the Marine, like a coin you turned over in your hands.

There were facets of her that time had sculpted into different shapes and, like in so many other ways, Shepard was playing catch-up. She felt _tired_. Tired of running when everyone else was walking.

Ashley set the cup in front of her. “Might seem silly…but Ma used to do this for me, when stuff was fucked up. I thought maybe… look, I know we haven’t been getting along but I still care about you. I mean, we were close, you know? I wanna move past all this shit.”

Close. Shepard remembered Ash moving on top of her in her dim cabin, the terminal painting her back in blue, her hands pressing Shepard into the mattress as she gasped against her mouth. She shifted and took a gulp of the hot chocolate, “I’d like that. I…fucked up, on Horizon. It was a situation I didn’t really know how to deal with and I understand, you know? Everything you said. I can’t say that I wouldn’t say the same if our places had been swapped.”

Ash sat down beside her, “I thought…look, coming back from the dead? It sounded to me more like you faked your death and hadn’t told me. And I…cared, you know? It fucking hurt, to think you’d done that, to go work for _Cerberus_. I’d grieved for two years, to think that’d you’d faked your death, that you didn’t care enough to contact me…”

Shepard nodded, sharply, taking another sip, “Those things you said, I…I’d thought of them all. I still don’t know if I’m _really_ me.” There was a lump in her throat but she forced herself on, to voice the words that’d stuck with her as she’d thought over Horizon again and again, “But I have to assume that I’m me because I broke ties with them.”

Ashley reached over, her hand warm on her wrist, taking away the cup and setting it back on the coffee table, “You’re you. I can see that now.”

“I love you,” Shepard said simply, the words slipping out. No more running. All the cards on the table. “I never stopped. I know it’s been two years for you, Ash, but I’ve…I haven’t had time to move on.’

“Shepard…” Ashley’s voice was soft, her hand still on her arm. She tried to concentrate on something besides the warmth of her callused palm, full lips, eyes like whiskey. 

“No one can hurt me like you can.” Shepard admitted and Ash’s fingers dug into her forearm, just a bit. “I must’ve read your email a dozen times, trying to work out what to say.”

“You never were very good at emails.” Ash said dryly. “I should’ve expected to get ‘it’ll be fine. Be safe.’”

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly before Ashley’s face went serious.

“We had something, years ago. Something important. When I saw you on Horizon, I know I said that I’d moved on but.” Ashley shrugged, a little helplessly. “I’m still in love with you. Maybe that’s part of why I was so angry.”

Shepard tried to control her smile.

“I’d like for this to go somewhere.” Ashley said at last.

“I can’t imagine myself with anyone else.” Shepard said honestly, folding a hand over Ash’s.

She laughed. “Good, because I was starting to think I needed to buy a bat to beat off all the people throwing themselves at you.”

Shepard shook her head affectionately. “Such a romantic.”

“Don’t you doubt it.” She said, grinning and slid her hands to Shepard’s collar. “Now c’mere.”

“Yes ma’am.” Shepard murmured and Ashley laughed in the moment before they kissed. She relaxed into it, the warm demand of Ashley’s mouth, her hands in her hair, her weight in her lap when the Marine pressed her against the couch. There were still thing they needed to talk about, wounds that needed to be examined and bandaged with their mutual wish to move past their arguments and transgressions. But this was a good start.

A very good start, she thought, with Ashley nipping at her bottom lip and Ashley’s hands on the buttons of her shirt, hot chocolate long forgotten.


	4. Female Shepard/Ashley Williams: 'kiss me'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: a hoarse whisper. "Kiss me."

“I’ve barely seen you.” 

Ashley wished that it didn’t sound so much like an accusation, not now, when they’re alone for the first time in two weeks. Commander Shepard was the woman of the hour, the face of the victorious Systems Alliance Naval Service. There had been interviews and meetings with the brass and diplomatic parties, while Ashley cooled her heels, protected from the ravenous media by her shattered ribs.

_Thanks, Sovereign._

She wondered if Emilia had been given any time to herself, to recover from the chase after Saren and the bloody battle in the Serpent Nebula. From the bags under her eyes, she hadn’t.

Shepard smiled, that little half-smile of theirs with just a hint of resignation, “The politicians all want their pound of flesh. How’s the ribs?” 

Ashley stretched to show off her unimpeded range of motion, “All good.” 

Shepard’s eyes were warm as they followed her movements and then met hers. Something in her chest released.

“How’s your arm?” She asked, dropping her gaze to the arm that’d been in plaster the last time she’d seen Shepard.

“Fine.”

“That’s good.” 

“Yeah.” 

They looked at each other across the metres between them. Shepard was wearing her fatigues instead of her dress whites. The memory of pulling it off her shoulders and running her palms under the white singlet she always wore under her uniform swam to the surface of Ashley’s mind. She licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Ash,” Emilia said, her voice a hoarse whisper, “Kiss me.” 

Another time, Ash might’ve teased her for that. Say  _is that an order, skipper?_ and then kiss her, laughing, while Shepard was still indignant. 

This time, she crossed the room in a few steps, her hands slipping to Shepard’s hips, tilting her face down so their mouths met. Shepard’s hands ran up the front of her uniform jacket, sparks all the way, to rest on her should and cup the back of her neck. Her grip tightened when Ash pressed her tongue to the seam of her lips, in the moment before they parted. 

Ash kissed her hungrily, deeply, pouring all of her fear and relief and -  _strong affection_ into it, until Shepard’s hand was a fist in her bun, in danger of pulling it free and they were pressed together. Emilia’s lips were so soft she had to nip at the bottom one. Shepard made a soft sound, and Ash was still smiling smugly when they parted. 

Shepard shook her head, a little fondly, running her thumb along Ash’s jaw, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” Ash said, knowing they should pull apart - they were in uniform, in Shepard’s Arcturus office - but not quite willing to let go of her yet.


	5. Female Shepard & David Anderson - Rime, 2178

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt rime – frost formed on cold objects by the rapid freezing of water vapour in cloud or fog.

This was one of those times that First Lieutenant Emilia Shepard could admit to herself that maybe, just maybe, she’d made a Bad Decision. This wasn’t the first time she’d been in a cell in her Marine Corps career, but it was the first time since she’d become an officer. Her company commander was going to tan her hide in the morning, but she had a sneaking suspicion he wanted any excuse to do so - he hated having a decorative platoon commander in his company just as much as she hated being one.

In the list of bad decisions she’d made since Elysium, this wasn’t high on the list.

“So,” she leaned against the wall, languid from the alcohol, “what’s with the separate cell? When I was a Lance, they just threw me in the drunk tank.”

The two Marine MPs looked at each other nervously. They’d worked out when putting her arrest into the system that they’d just arrested the ‘Lion of Elysium’ and they didn’t seem quite sure whether to go all ‘yes ma'am no ma'am’ or treat her like any other drunk dragged in on a Friday night.

The answer, Shepard knew, was the latter, but that would make her night very boring. She liked people, liked talking to them, liked ferreting out what made them tick. Gunny Richardson had watched her speaking to the XO once, then called her a ‘manipulative fuck, ma’am’ but it’d gotten him the HMG lubricant he’d needed.

And then the stupid _fuck_ had pushed her out of the way of a blast of acid and took a shot of it to the side, like he didn’t have a family to go home to.

“It’s uh, policy, ma'am, with biotics.” One of them said quietly, looking at her boots.

She smiled gently and the PFC promptly blushed.

“It’s alright. You two are just doing your jobs.”

“Yes ma'am,” the other young Marine said with a smile that brightened his young face.

She was only twenty-four, but God, sometimes Shepard felt like an old woman compared to these young Privates and PFCs and Lance Corporals. War was fought by children.

Shepard was deep into conversation about their career plans and Private Ippolito’s issues with his mother when the door to the cell block hissed open, followed by a heavy tread of booted feet. The two Marines went ramrod straight.

“Commander Anderson, sir!”

“Anderson,” she said easily, swaying only a tiny bit as she came to the bars, “here to bail me out?”

He looked at her, expressionless, from the top of her messy curls to her pants, currently with a beer stain on one leg.

“Corrupting the enlisted, are we Lieutenant?”

“Givin’ a little career advice is all, Cap'n.”

Anderson ignored her, hands clasped behind his back when he turned his gaze to Ippolito, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor, “Release Lieutenant Shepard, if you’d be so kind, Private.”

“Aye sir!”

* * *

The apartment was still and silent when Emilia Shepard staggered her way in after fumbling through the lock. Fucking Arcturus. Why did they need key chits anyway? Couldn’t they just biometric data or something? Arcturus was as close to a home as she had, but she was starting to think absence made the heart grow fonder. It felt like a box folded in around her these days.

Anderson’s bag was on her couch as well as a - bucket?

“Made yourself at home, huh?” she mumbled, throwing her wallet onto the bench beside a take out container.

“You gave me keys, remember?” he said, shoulders still straight like he was on the parade ground.

“Right…yeah.”

“Rita’s worried about you."

She was half expecting him to say 'I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed’ like he’d never cut loose in his time.

She blinked slowly at him. The room was still a bit…wobbly.

“Rita should be…you know worrying about her ship and crew! 'Cause they’re deployed. I’m just…babysitting POGs,,,”

He shook his head and then moved -

Old bastard was fast and blood _strong._

The water was cold and sharp, like blades of ice on her face, and she was spluttering when Anderson hauled her out by her collar and tossed her aside like a bag of potatoes. Shepard hit the deck, still gasping for breath, curls stuck to her face. Then the anger rose, thick and choking, a red haze over everything. The rage she’d tried so fucking hard to beat into submission so she could be the good little officer, waiting to be allowed back out of the cage.

Shepard surged to her feet, carried by her anger and sudden sobriety, blue sparking between her fingers.

Fuck. This. Shit.

“Go fuck yourself,” she hissed, “ _Sir_.”

Anderson planted himself squarely across from her, arms folded and his eyes stormy, “What part of this seems like conduct becoming of an officer, Lieutenant?”

She sneered, “You think I give a shit anymore, Commander?”

He frowned at her and it was like a punch to the gut - all concerned, disappointed father figure. She wanted to punch him for it.

“No. You don’t get to show up here and judge me when you haven’t been here!” Her voice was rising now. _No one was here, except Jules and Shay and they’re gone now too._

“This isn’t like you, Shepard,” his voice was steel, said without words  _you’re acting like a child._  “you know Marines look up to their officers. You used to care about that - about being an officer your enlisted you could trust, count on. This isn’t that - nor is the apathy you’ve apparently been showing at your duties!“

“My career is over anyway,” she said morosely, “they cleared me just so they could have their fucking ‘Lion of Elysium’ in a cage to trot out in front of politicians. They’re never giving me another N5 billet. They think I’m bad luck. That I got my Marines killed.”

Something gentled in Anderson’s expression. “Shepard.  _Emilia_. You know that’s not true.”

She shrugged weakly. "Sure. But what happened and what people _think_ happened - that’s two different things, Anderson.”

He kneaded his forehead before he raised his head and looked her square in the eye, “You’ve been through a lot these past few years. Elysium, Akuze, now being stuck here. No one could blame you for reaching your limit. But Emilia, the one thing you can control in this life is yourself.” He reached into his pocket and put a datapad in her hand. “Read it.

_Interplanetary Combatives Training - Operator Training Course._

Her head shot up, a ember of hope fluttering into a flame. "Sir?”

“I’m not going to lie,” he warned, “there’s suitability tests before they even throw you into Operator Selection and if you fail their interviews you could find yourself back in front of a medboard. But get yourself cleaned up and pass that - and what happens after that is entirely in your hands.”

Shepard tightened her grip on the datapad, wondered out loud, “N7?”

Anderson smiled, a flash of warmth and white teeth, “You’ve always aimed high.”

She breathed out, squared her shoulder, “Alright, sir, if you’re done re-enacting the Manhunt, I’m going to have a shower and get some sleep. I have some training to do in the morning.”

He chuckled. “You do look like you’re getting soft around the edges.”

Shepard flipped him off over her shoulder.


	6. Female Shepard/Miranda Lawson: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt '‘ Following The Kiss With A Series Of Kisses Down The Neck'

The Citadel, beacon of civilization, spread out below Miranda’s window in lush gardens and silver architecture. All she saw was the potential threat of the window, the door, the crowds walking the hallways and walkways of the Presidium. 

Kai Leng…Her fingers brushed her pistol. Even being here was a risk, one she’d weighed in her head a dozen times over before she’d snuck aboard under a fake identity and found this safehouse. Cerberus would gladly kill her and the Alliance had no reason to do anything but slap cuffs on her.

But she had to find Oriana, and with her own network disrupted or destroyed that meant she needed Alliance resources. Whatever the risk. 

And there was only one Alliance officer who would even consider it. 

The door slid open and despite herself, her fingers slid to her concealed pistol.

“Easy,” Shepard filled the doorway, arms crossed, that infuriating little half smirk on her mouth. “It’s just me.” 

The scientist in Miranda always enjoyed the sight of Commander Shepard - a woman torn from death’s grasp by medicine and science. A warmth settled in her chest now - but that had nothing to do with the pursuits of science.. 

Jane was dressed in Alliance blue, and for all of Miranda’s complicated feelings towards the Systems Alliance, she had to admit the Commander wore that uniform with a self-assurance and ease that’d always been absent when she was in Cerberus colours. She wore it like a second skin.

She opened her mouth to launch her entreaty, but Shepard crossed the distance between them in long, confident strides and kissed her. Her mouth was as steady as her hands on Miranda’s hips, a slow burn of warmth. An anchoring.  Hard guilt was heavy and sharp-edged in her gut but she couldn’t help but return it, threading her fingers through tousled red hair.  

When their lips parted with a soft pop audible in the silent room, she tugged at those strands of hair. “Does the Alliance not have hair regulations anymore?” 

Shepard’s lips curved, her green eyes not wavering. “I’m special forces, Miss Lawson. Don’t need to worry about that during wartime.” 

“Listen, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“In a minute,” Shepard murmured, her lips ghosting over her jaw. “I haven’t seen you in months.” 

“Impatient as ever,” she managed as the kisses continued down her neck, soft and lingering.

“For you? Always.”


	7. Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko: Returned From The Dead

Shepard’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest, hard enough that he half-expected it to break open his sternum under his armour. His hands fumbled for the latches of his helmet to tear it off, baring his head, his face, his eyes to the scorching Horizon sunlight and familiar brown eyes.

_“Kaidan.”_ Quiet, a whisper loud with unspoken emotion. Not the way you should call the name of a former coworker, a friend. But Kaidan had never been just a coworker, just a subordinate. 

But there had been their ranks, their mission, Torfan, _Ash_ between them and Shepard had never been able to find the words for the things he _wanted_ in the quiet of his own head. 

Kaidan stepped forward, into him, chest to chest. The ceramic plating of their armour clacked together. And then they were kissing, Kaidan’s hard gloved hand curling around the top of his plating, his mouth firm and quietly desperate in its movements. Shepard wrapped his arms around him, the muscular solidity of him.

_Alive, alive, alive._ They were both alive. The terrible fear that had burnt through him like corrosive acid began to wash away. 

He didn’t care that his squadmates and that stupid civilian were there. Because  Shepard was alive and so was Kaidan.

Kaidan slowly pulled back, stubble rubbing against Shay’s clean-shaven cheek. His eyes lingered on the red-raw scars that split his jawline. 

“I thought you were dead,” he said, voice rough.


	8. Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko: Sunrise over English Bay

Shepard woke to a cooling bed with Kaidan’s spot empty and the blanket neatly folded back on that side. Nerd. He stretched, wincing at the cracks that ran down his spine. The pain had been bad last night, a burn that sapped his energy and so Kaidan had convinced him to take his meds, then curled around him, warm and solid, as sleep overtook him.

Shepard shrugged off the sheets, resisting the urge to smooth them out. Too long in the military. Pulling on his shirt (carefully, minding his still achy shoulder and the splotches of new skin) he went in search of his fiance, curling his toes into warm slippers. Vancouver was still a bit cold for him - Mindoir had been warm and sunny with a golden sun over golden wheat - but Kaidan’s clear love of his homeland made it worth it.

He’d loved Mindoir like that, once.

“Hey.”

Kaidan was sitting on the deck of his parent’s home, coffee in hand, buried in a warm jacket and when he looked up it was with a smile. Sunrise dripped down the horizon, painting the sky and English Bay in pinks and oranges.

“Hey you,” Kaidan slung an arm around his waist, one broad and callused hand slipping into his back pocket.

Shepard smiled and leant down, gingerly as all his movements were at the moment, to press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. He’d been growing his beard out from the regulation mustache he’d worn during the War and it was a good look on him.

“Watching the sunrise, huh?”

“Yeah. My dad and I…we spent a lot of time out here.”

Shepard laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Kaidan’s mum had welcomed them here, fussed over Shepard almost as much as she did Kaidan, but the absence of the man Shepard had never gotten to meet loomed large. There hadn’t been any time to grieve during the war. Just the next fight.

And now…

He leant down to kiss Kaidan again and then settled in the chair opposite him. Hand in hand they silently watched the sun rise.


	9. Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko: Australian vs Canada

_2188, Vancouver, Canada, Earth_

 

Lying on his back in his own goddamn driveway, his arse aching, Shay Shepard really had to wonder how he'd gotten here to this moment. _Move to Earth with your hot new husband,_ they'd said. _It'll be fun,_ they'd said. He'd visited Earth before, of course, mostly to see family. But Australia's dangers were the sort you could prepare for. Spiders? Just shake our your boots. Snakes? Just avoid long grass. And if you did come across an Australian snake, you both just ended up backing away like you'd committed some kind of faux pas. 

_Ow._

"Shay!" the skycar door slammed shut and he heard the heavy tread of Kaidan's uniform boots, and his humiliation was complete.

_Remember when Kaidan thought you were a sexy, mysterious badass?_

_Yeah, nah._

"Hey hun," he said as his husband carefully picked his way across the slick, icy driveway. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yup." he popped the word.

"Is it your knee?" Kaidan frowned with that cute little furrow between his dark eyebrows.

"No," he grumbled, even though his knee  _was_ throbbing just like his arse, "It was the bloody ice. Because Canada hates me."

Kaidan looked far too close to amused for Shepard's liking. "Canada doesn't hate you. I don't think landmasses have feelings."

"All the evidence is to the contrary," he replied snippily.

"You're not wearing your snow boots," Kaidan pointed out. "Did you read the article?"

_Tips for walking in winter._ He was Commander Shepard. He'd killed Reapers! He knew how to walks! "No."

Kaidan looked rather put out. "I printed it out for you. I even stuck it on the fridge."

"I can walk without directions!"

"You fell over," Kaidan said very sensibly. Normally Shepard liked that trait of his. That solid strength he'd leant on when he'd thought all of his own had eroded away. Right now, it was less pleasing.

"The ground attacked me. A poor, defenceless Australian."

Kaidan stared at him for a moment, his lips curving into a helplessly affectionate smile. "If you're done being dramatic, let me help you up and I'll run you a warm bath."

Shepard considered this - and the way his husband filled out his dark blue Marine uniform. "Only if you join me."

"Deal."

He took Kaidan's warm, calloused hand.


	10. Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko: A Stolen Moment

“You know,” Shepard said, “I was born on a farm.”

Kaidan blinked at him. The sun was setting over the tiny colony, drenching the sky in reds and oranges. There wasn’t much here - just a handful of houses and farms - and the Reapers hadn’t bothered with much beyond husks. The Normandy had caught the colony’s distress call on their way back from another mission.

The man Kaidan had met four years ago might’ve ignored it. They were an integral part of the war effort. They were needed in a hundred places at once.

But Shepard had stopped.

The fields were bare of crops, the rich black toil turned in long lines under the dying light, the air thick and hot. It was nothing like Vancouver here. But maybe, Kaidan thought, looking over at the Commander, it was something like Mindoir.

“I was studying agriculture, can you believe that?” Shepard chuckled. He sat in the dirt, peeling off his gauntlets. It’d been a long few days as they evacuated the colony, with regular attacks from the Reaper forces on the planet. “I loved that shit. Soil PH, water-tables, farming machinery. I was gonna continue the family farm.”

“Do you still like it?” Kaidan asked carefully, sitting down beside him.

Shepard tilted his head. This close, Kaidan could see the sharp planes of his jaw, the stubble he never seemed to shave off, the harsh, painful red of his scars. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it in a long time.”

He dug his fingers into the soil, dirt across the pads of his fingers, like he was connecting with the planet beneath them.

“My family has an orchard,” Kaidan said haltingly, “Maybe when all this is over, I could show it to you.”

Shepard gave him one of his rare smiles and his chest warmed. “I’d like that. I don’t know shit about apples though.”

“I’m sure my aunt can teach you.”

They sat in silence as the sun set, Shepard running his hands through the soft, dark soil, listening only to the rise and fall of each other’s breathing.


End file.
